


sounds of presence

by sailawaylily



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Boys In Love, Childhood Sweethearts, Excessive Description of eyes, I wanted soft so I wrote soft, M/M, Melancholy, Mutual Pining, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 11:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30071559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailawaylily/pseuds/sailawaylily
Summary: __________________Near's eyes had glistened with joy and his cheeks had turned the most lovely shade of pink. In a raging moment of clarity, Mello had understood that he enjoyed being the cause of that look on Near's face. He had brushed the thought aside, because the birthday cake was good enough to do so.__________________
Relationships: Mello | Mihael Keehl/Near | Nate River
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	sounds of presence

**Author's Note:**

> hey folks. this is, I think, some soft stuff I felt like writing, because I really like the scene where Near returns the photograph to Mello and it inspired me.  
> I hope everything is okay grammatically speaking, I am not a native English speaker so any corrections and/or suggestions will be appreciated.  
> stay safe, much love from Liz.

  
_Dear Mello._  
Near stared at his neat, clear handwriting: now what? He was sure the words would've come to his mind, but there was a numbness to his thoughts which he wasn't used to. He flipped the picture, looking for the umpteenth time at the blond boy's unmoved expression. Near scrunched his nose and carefully slipped the photograph under a pile of dice. He would think of something later, now it was time to solve the big puzzle. "Justice will prevail", he whispered to himself.

  
________________ 

  
Mello unloaded his gun and threw it on the bed. Ever since Kira had died he had been dealing with angry, mostly brainless mobsters who wanted to get hold of a death note and thought he somehow owed them his help. Mello's lips twitched at the thought. Near had decided to move next-door. Mello thought it was an absurd idea, firstly because Near had low tolerance for the techno music the blond loved so much; secondly, it was dangerous because of the above-mentioned gangsters, even though Mello was extremely careful as to not let anyone know where they lived. It wasn't an ugly neighbourhood, but it was secluded enough. Not to mention, after years spent between headquarters and abandoned warehouses, Mello practically felt in heaven whenever he stepped into the comfortable, warm flat.

It was a nice day, slightly windy but sunny, and Mello thought of dragging Near outside and picking up Matt as well, even though convincing him to put down the latest version of Zelda would be a struggle.He looked down at the clock on the bedside table: Near was probably still at yoga. Why he'd picked up that hobby, Mello had no idea; he had commented that Near already looked emotionless, so he didn't understand what he needed slackening for. Near had looked him in the eyes the way Mello hated: collected but somehow intense, as if he could scan his mind and the results made him slightly disappointed. Well, he could wait for him at his flat. Mello didn't dream of saying it out loud, but he liked looking at Near's toys, cards and towers. When he wasn't there, they felt like a silent extension of the boy himself. Mello strode to the kitchen, grabbed a chocolate bar and stuffed it in the pocket of his leather coat. On his way out, he grabbed the keys to Near's flat and pressed his fingertips against the cold metal of the keychain: it was a small snowflake he had stolen from Near's belongings, before leaving Whammy.

  
Near closed the car door and waved at Rester. His legs still trembled slightly from exertion, but it was a good kind of tiredness, one that didn't extend to his eyes or trigger his recurrent headaches, as puzzles sometimes did. He checked the mailbox on his tiptoes and walked to his door. The lock had another key in it on the inside, which prevented Near from opening it. Soon enough, the door swung open, revealing Mello and his charming grin. Near smiled softly at him and shuffled inside. He didn't have the energy to deal with looking at him for too long, what with his tanned, slender figure that always made Near's stomach feel like a washing machine. "Good morning ice prince, how is yoga treating you? Feeling more flexible already?" Mello greeted him, so to say, while closing the door and walking back towards the small living room. Near scoffed and followed him, slowly dropping the gym bag on the floor.

  
"It's treating me well, it's very relaxing. I gave you a key for emergencies?" he added, looking questioningly at the coffee mug in his hands. Mello rolled his eyes and leaned on the back of the couch: "I was thinking we could force Matt to come out of his cave and go for a walk together? Maybe lunch?" he proposed, poorly trying to hide his hopefulness for a positive answer. Near slightly raised his eyebrows, eyes lingering on Mello's face now, but he nodded: "Sounds okay. I'll shower and then we can go. Don't warn Matt beforehand, he'll hide and try to jumpscare me" he concluded, heading for the bathroom. Mello snickered and took a sip from his cup, glancing at Near's long hair. It had grown to his hips during the last few months and Mello secretly thought it made him look like a fairytale character. He shook his head and relaxed.

In front of the TV were neatly displayed pieces of a big puzzle: it represented a statue sculpted by Bernini and it was a gift from Matt. Mello remembered very well how weird he felt seeing how perfect the gift was: Near's eyes had glistened with joy and his cheeks had turned the most lovely shade of pink. In a raging moment of clarity, Mello had understood that he enjoyed being the cause of that look on Near's face. He had brushed the thought aside, because the birthday cake was good enough to do so.

  
Mello looked up at the bookshelf. His own face was looking at him from a photograph in a simple black frame. He looked quite different: his hair was shorter and tidier, his eyes stubborn and angry, despite the shy smile that lingered on his lips. Mello didn't really understand why Near kept that picture in in his flat, although he knew it was one of the few keepsakes of their past that hadn't been destroyed, along with their names.Mello stood up, almost unconsciously, and took the photograph in his hands. He fumbled with the small metal stops on the back of the frame, wanting to feel the paper in his hands and possibly tear it apart. The frame clicked and he removed it, looking at the faded colors, searching for something he wasn't even aware of. He turned the photograph and furrowed his brows. He knew Near's handwriting quite well from the years spent studying together, but he didn't understand why those two words were written there: "dear Mello". He stupidly flipped the picture in his hand. It seemed as if Near had wanted to write an inscription but for some reason had decided against it.

  
"Hey", murmured Near's voice right beside him. Mello jumped and looked right through him, eyes unfocused. Near lightly touched his forearm, muttering something about how yoga would be a good idea. "It's me, calm down. What are you doing?" he inquired, looking at the picture in his hands. He knew very well what Mello was probably wondering about, but hoped he'd just let it be, as he did with many things when it came to Near. Mello looked down at Near's hand, his fingertips still grazing his wrist to ground him. He looked into his big eyes and felt dizzy. It was strange, how Near always fitted so well the nickname "ice prince" that Mello decided on, while also being a constant source of warmth, setting Mello's skin on fire whenever the boy touched him, looked at him intently or giggled at his jokes.  
"What were you writing here? Why did you stop?" he questioned, practically flinging the photograph at Near; the latter gently took it and put it back on the shelf.

He remembered: he had wanted to write many things, explaining, blaming, asking. He didn't write anything and talking wasn't as easy: everything was a blur and threatened to come out incomprehensible, or worse, misunderstood. Near wanted to tell of being left at Whammy, crying every night in Matt's arms because the one person who could alleviate the pressure of being himself had left without a word. Near wanted to be angry at Mello for hiding behind the gangster facade and pretending they were never children with tender, naive and unfiltered feelings for each other. Near wanted to hug Mello, because it had been years since the blond had done that, and Near didn't understand why, or didn't want to. He slouched his shoulders.

  
"It was long ago, I just wanted to write something nice on it but never got around to it. We were busy catching Kira" he added with a sad smile, meeting Mellos' eyes. "Something nice?" Mello repeated, sounding unsure. Near looked at him with a slightly amused expression: between them, usually Mello would be the one to explain emotions and social cues. "Yes, Mel, something nice. Something... affectionate" he added, his voice down to a murmur. Mello took a step back and sat on the couch, looking up at Near.  
"As we did when we were kids?" he suggested, fiddling with the cross hanging low on his chest. 

  
Near felt his eyes water but he swallowed a sob and shrugged: "Kind of, yes, even though we're not kids anymore" he offered, immediately feeling stupid for stating the obvious. Mello's eyes widened as if that was news. "You feel the affection we felt when we were kids?" he asked openly. Near closed his eyes; he felt tired of this third degree questioning and he was probably getting all the answers wrong, anyway. He blinked and looked down at Mello: his beauty hurt. The scars on his skin reminded Near how close he had been to losing him forever. 

  
"No, it's different now but yes, I feel affection. Why don't you?" and there it was, his voice slightly wavered in pain. He couldn't take it back, not with Mello looking like Near had shot him. They stared at each other like deers caught in the headlights. Mello struggled to find the right word to begin with, so his body supplied an answer, albeit a dangerous one. He stood up and gently gripped Near's jaw with his warm fingers. Near's hands trembled and instinctively grabbed the blond's wrist, keeping him still. Near thought he could feel the sound of his blood pulsating in his veins, up to his temples; he knew something important was happening but he felt like letting go, like closing his eyes and finding out he was just dreaming of Mello's hand in his hair, pushing it back.

  
"Nate". That felt real, and rare. How long had it been since someone had called him by that name? Near tried to focus on the boy's attentive eyes and nodded. The fingers in his hair scratched lightly, and it felt good, made his cheeks warm.  
"Nate, everything and anything I feel for you is affection", Mello's voice murmured. Near's lips trembled, but he didn't stop it. Now he felt on fire, every nerve was aware of Mello's hands touching him, cradling him. Mello kissed his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and Near felt like clay in the grip of his hand; he cried but he laughed as well, he whispered Mihael's name many times and each time Mihael answered, and there wasn't a sound more beautiful than his presence.


End file.
